


Shiver the whole night through

by flambydelrabies



Category: Tales of Symphonia
Genre: Confessions, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, M/M, Mention of blood, Near Death Experiences, two buds talk about their feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:55:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25418047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flambydelrabies/pseuds/flambydelrabies
Summary: Lloyd didn’t win the fight against Kratos at Origin’s seal, and he’s not the only one who ended up hurt.Turns out, love makes you stupid.
Relationships: Lloyd Irving/Zelos Wilder
Comments: 3
Kudos: 36





	Shiver the whole night through

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SuikaShoujo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuikaShoujo/gifts).



> My girlfriend SuikaShoujo (formerly idi0tchosen) has a birthday today, and it’s two days before mine, so what’s better than a birthday fic exchange between two buds, and what’s better than a near death experience/confessions fic for our injury/sickfic queen? Hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it (it's significantly shorter than my usual work), and go wish Sweeka a big HBD.

Zelos spent more time dreaming about dying than he didn't. 

He knew the intricacies of death inside and out; he knew the stench of blood in his hair, the weight of his mother's body perched on top of him, and the way her eyes grew even colder the moment the last breath left her body. Death was just another notion that brought him back to baseline, another of his fickle lovers he toyed with promiscuously.

When his father died the crown of thorns that read  _ Chosen of Tethe’alla, XVII _ was placed delicately over Zelos’ head instead, and each and every night following, he wondered what it would be like to simply go to sleep and  _ not wake up  _ the next morning _. _ Would he feel nothing but the beat of his own heart in his chest, until that, too, finally disappeared?

That wasn’t what Zelos felt right then-- in fact, in this very moment, it was far from it. Such could only mean one of two things: either his childish daydreams of the afterlife were far-fetched and fictitious, or somehow, he was  _ still alive. _

His vision had been coated black, and everything around him felt  _ warm _ \-- considering snow and ice had always been ingrained into his ideas of death, that was perhaps the first hint it had to be the latter.

The second was an all-too-familiar voice that rang through his ears until his stomach twisted in knots and circles.

“Zelos?”

_ Lloyd. _ It was  _ Lloyd. _ Fuck if Zelos knew where he was right now, but at least he knew if he was hearing Lloyd’s voice, he couldn’t be in hell.

He tried to open his mouth, tried to say something,  _ anything _ in return, but all that came from his throat was a hoarse cry that sounded pathetic, even to himself.

“Zelos, can you open your eyes?”

Lloyd’s voice kept getting closer until it sent a shiver down his spine. He hadn’t considered opening his eyes any more than he’d considered they were closed to begin with.

_ Here goes nothing. _

One after the other, Zelos’ vision returned in a series of flickers and uncertainties, so bright he’d almost wondered once more if he were dead, only to quash that thought like a scurrying insect under his foot (because goddess, there’s no way he’d ever get into  _ heaven). _ Of all places, he could only be at an inn, one of those private rooms the party all fought over during their travels. Blankets. Lloyd at his side. And bandages-- lots of them.

“Bud,” Zelos finally said with a voice that scratched like sandpaper in his mouth. The moment he reached to swat the hair from his eyes, he found a searing pain in his shoulder stopped him in his tracks. “Where--” he paused; the rest of his words only dried up in his throat.

Lloyd scrambled closer, nearly entwined with the chair stationed next to the bed; the dark circles that hung heavy under his eyes indicated that Zelos got  _ far _ more sleep than Lloyd did.

“I thought you were dead,” Lloyd finally said with trembling hands and a smile that clearly pretended to be strong for Zelos’ sake, rather than his own. “Everyone’s been so worried. Zelos, you--”

“I what?” Speaking was getting easier-- less jarring, with a voice progressively becoming less grating. A quick glance downward revealed his bare chest had been hastily covered in gauze and dressing, and that was when all the little fragments he’d lost began returning one by one. The battle at Origin’s seal, Kratos’ blade drawing nearer, and--

Lloyd.

“Zelos, you saved my life.” His words were thankful, but his tone only spoke of guilt with an inflection of shame to boot. “It was bad enough that I lost the fight. But to almost lose you too…”

And now the memories were back; the cage of Torent forest, the clink of iron against silver as Lloyd fought against his father. Watching Kratos’ attacks become progressively more devastating. Watching Lloyd misstep and his blades fumble. Watching him  _ lose. _

“Kratos-- he really did a number on me, huh?” Zelos adjusted to a seated position, leaning up against the wooden bedframe and trying not to look down at his bloodied bandages with little luck. His entire left shoulder, stretching to his abdomen, had been wrapped with gauze, and the knot in his stomach only tightened at the thought of what he must look like underneath it all.

“It should have been me. I was the one who lost. It was my fight.” Lloyd’s vision turned downwards, as if looking for something he could only find in the speckled grain of the floorboards. “It wasn’t yours, Zelos. So why--” Lloyd’s palms balled into fists. “Why did you help me?”

Zelos’ lips pursed as he tugged at the blankets that nearly strapped him in place. There was no easy way to answer that question; every time he asked himself that very same thing he drew blank upon blank, until his thoughts finally stopped and he was left speechless.

He couldn’t tell you what possessed him to break the rules of the battle and jump within the ring. He couldn’t explain the feeling in his chest when he looked at Lloyd, he couldn’t explain that he was far less scared of death than Lloyd was and twice as deserving of it. He couldn’t tell you why he lept in front of Kratos’ blade in Lloyd’s stead. He couldn’t tell you why he  _ saved him. _

Most of all, as his eyes flicked back and forth from Lloyd to the bandages that kept crimson blood from spilling to the sheets, he couldn’t tell you why he’d do it again in a  _ heartbeat. _

Instead, he smiled through his teeth, one of those picture-perfect grins he’d only donned to outshine whatever he was trying to hide. “You know, half of Tethe’alla’s population would  _ kill _ to say they were  _ saved _ by the great _ Zelos Wilder. _ ”

“When I agreed to fight against Kratos one-on-one, I knew I might lose. I was prepared for that.” Lloyd’s posture became rigid and an unsteady hand reached for whatever it could grab before resting on the sheets. “I never wanted you to get hurt, Zelos. Seeing you on the ground, thinking I might lose you, it was--”

“That painful, huh?” Zelos smirked as a strand of rose-red hair brushed against his forehead. “Then I guess you understand how I felt seeing Kratos’ blade at your throat.”

The moment those words left his mouth, he was finally beginning to understand why he did it, too.

Lloyd didn’t respond.

“You don’t need to stay with me right now, you know.” Zelos could never understand why he lied like this or why he did it so consistently, because in truth,  _ all he wanted _ was for Lloyd to stay. Yet, for once in his sorry life, he was in luck, because that half-truth was shot down and shattered when Lloyd frowned and furrowed his brows. 

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Alright. Be that way.” Zelos could live with this; hell, he could even get  _ comfortable _ with having Lloyd by his side, alone-- bandages and all. “I guess it sucks that your dad beat you in a fight, huh?”

Lloyd seemed taken aback by this, as if the truth came as a surprise by virtue of  _ Zelos _ speaking it, of all people. “I… yeah. I don’t know how we’re going to release Origin’s seal now.”

A frown crawled across the redhead’s previously-indifferent face, and he found his hand drifting across the sheets to rest against Lloyd’s. “Ah, bud. You’ll figure it out. You’ve always been good at that.”

Again, Lloyd was silent, making little more noise than a barely-audible grunt from the base of his throat. He was clearly preoccupied with Zelos’ condition, and talk of Kratos seemed to only irritate him further.  _ Best to drop the subject, _ he thought, let him sit with his own emotions for a bit, the way Zelos always did with his.

Unfortunately for him, Zelos was far more acquainted with the feeling of failure than Lloyd ever was, and nothing compared to grieving someone he hadn’t even lost yet.  _ Still, _ somehow, to Zelos’ great surprise, Lloyd’s fingers crept closer before entwining with his own; the heat from his palm snaked up to set his heart ablaze, a burning sensation that was unfamiliar at best, yet  _ completely horrifying _ when it finally dawned on Zelos what it meant.

He knew what love was, in theory. He knew it as some abstract concept to justify why people did silly, foolish things for others. He knew that some of the greatest songs and books had been written about love. 

He knew what love was.

To him, love had always been validation from strangers during one night stands and something his parents always lacked, whether towards him or the world or each other. He knew love made you cruel and was never worth the trouble.

But now, he finally understood why he jumped in front of Krato’s blade without a second thought, and why the one and only time he’d thought about death around Lloyd was to stop its cruel claws from taking him instead.

As he stopped and felt the burning sensation in his chest and the desire to draw Lloyd only nearer, he realized that love made you  _ stupid. _

The silence between them was stifling as they sat there, together, with a shared gaze and fingers interlocked. Zelos felt his breath heavy in his chest, yet paid no mind to the dull ache that skittered up to his shoulder with every inhale. He’d nearly forgotten their dire circumstances in all the tension.

Yet, if there was a time to be stupid, it was now; he sucked in a breath, sitting with the churn in the pit of his stomach before cutting the silence in two. “Hey, Lloyd?”

“Yeah?” he replied, wide-eyed and more full of life than he’d been since Zelos had opened his eyes. A face nobody could say  _ ‘no’ _ to, even if they’d asked in the first place.

Zelos paused, biting his tongue before he’d even opened his mouth. “Do you want to know why I took the blow for you?”

Lloyd seemed taken aback by Zelos’ question, considering he’d given only a dubious response moments earlier. “Yeah, I do, actually.”

_ What was it that made him change his mind?  _

The redhead laughed, if a series of throaty exhales could be considered such. “I might never get another chance to say this,” he said, before realizing he had nothing to say at all. The only words he could think to speak crept up his throat and died on the tip of his tongue. Instead, after years spent only pretending to know the feeling that now fluttered deep in his chest, Zelos leaned to grasp Lloyd’s shirt and did the only thing he knew how.

Zelos kissed him, and as his tongue traveled between Lloyd’s lips, gently tracing the dip where they met, the kiss was better than any words that he could have spoken.

It took seconds for Lloyd to lean in and press back with enough pressure to say  _ ‘I love you too’, _ as if it needed to be said at all. The kiss was clumsy as it began, with Lloyd’s inexperience coupled with subtle cues from Zelos; it took little time for Lloyd to learn the intricacies of Zelos’ lips and respond with grace and care.

That was all either of them needed.

By the time they broke from the kiss, its intensity had grown to the point where both Lloyd and Zelos were nearly gasping for air, shaking, looking each other in the eyes with a passion they’d not shared before that very moment. Then and there, it was like nothing else mattered.

The battle against Kratos didn’t matter. Releasing Origin’s seal didn’t matter. Mithos, the Eternal Sword, in that moment,  _ none of it mattered. _

“I--” Lloyd began, before being cut short by Zelos resting his finger against Lloyd’s lips.

“I think I’m in love with you, Lloyd,” Zelos spoke. “That’s why I never wanted to see you get hurt.”

“You beat me to it.” Lloyd smiled, genuinely this time. He glanced up and down at Zelos, still bandaged, shaking like a deboned animal left panting from their sudden encounter. It was hardly fair that someone could be so beautiful, even when so completely  _ vulnerable. _

“But-- you’re still wounded. You should really get some rest, right?”

“Please.” A single-sided grin crept its way across Zelos’ face to match Lloyd’s own. “When does the great  _ Zelos Wilder _ ever rest?”

A quick, half-hearted sigh as Lloyd ran his thumb atop Zelos’, feeling the smooth skin against every knuckle below. “You know, you don’t always have to be the strong one, Zelos. It’s okay to let other people take care of you sometimes, too.”

“Ha.” Zelos leaned back, wrapping himself snug in the plush blankets. He could never say ‘no’ to a pretty face, and in his eyes, Lloyd was only the prettiest. “You know I can’t say no to that.”

Lloyd gripped Zelos’ hand, tightly enough for both their heartbeats to resonate in their palms. “Promise I’ll be right here. I'm not leaving.”

Zelos’ lips curled into a smile, still warm and tingling from the kiss minutes before. “Fine, then. It’s a promise.”

He drifted to sleep in an instant, fingers still entwined limp with Lloyd’s in his slumber. Tomorrow, they could figure it all out; Raine could run another round of healing magic over Zelos’ wounds, which would one day turn to nothing more than white scars that stretched across his skin. They could find a way to reason with Kratos and release the seal. The two worlds would keep turning until eventually, they became one. Most of all, that night, Zelos  _ didn’t dream of dying. _

After that, he never once did again.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from the song “Where Did You Sleep Last Night?”, which has been covered by multiple artists but I highly recommend the Lana del Rabies (yes, Rabies, not Rey) version.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oSxrEpW0cqg


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